re_alignment_logs | A formal dance.

WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: The Atrium, Haven's Hub.
WHEN: Today! The dance will go on from the late afternoon until the early hours of the morning.
WHAT: Have your top hat and cane? This is a formal ball. The origination is a drunken Vandal and battle-worn Saber.
WARNINGS: Could be anything from bar fights to drunken swearing to people tripping over their own feet or people making out in a corner.

Welcome to the dance!
     The Atrium will have its doors open in the late evening. For the first two hours, Vandal and Drift will be acting as receptionist and bouncer. After that, the doors close. At the reception desk, you will be required to sign your name and also hand over any weapons that you are carrying. (Within the building there is an inhibitor placed. No one will be able to use any weaponry on their person.)

     The Atrium is decorated in royal purple and black, with accents of white and pearl. The decorations are standard fair for a ball. There's hanging draperies, table clothes, and colored lighting. Towards the outside of the circular Atrium, everyone will be under a glowing white light. Towards the middle of the dance floor, there is a much softer lavender that illuminates the immediate area.

     Vandal and Saber organized and planned, and then helped with decorations. They will also be over seeing the event throughout the entire night. Vandal will be handling the reception desk and registration. We have Frenzy as our DJ in the Atrium, and Miko will be playing electric guitar for those who decide to visit the bar. Saber, Ironhide, and McCrane will be acting as security. They would be the best to contact should you have any.. safety concerns. Our bouncer, Drift, will be "on call" for security once his primary assignment is done. Kay organized and lead the decorating, and Ravage and McCrane helped with placing them. Melan and Joe gathered needed materials. Skidaddle is the one to blame for having the supply of available hats at the doors for any Cybertronian who tries to get past the one piece of attire rule.

     Feel free to post in any sub-forum area you think your character would be present in (with or without an opening post), or merely tag others. Prose or action-spam is okay (and you may want to include this in your initial posts if you want others to tag you). Bonus: include links to garments your character may be wearing. This is entirely up to you! Have fun!

     Make sure to add your character to the tags! (That's the registry.)

SHORTCUTS TO THE SUB-FORUMS:
Reception Area
Dance Floor
Lounging Areas
Bar
Walls

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hm. Strange." After a moment, Perceptor frowned, and bent to write something out on his datapad. "As fortunate as it is, one wonders why she would suddenly have such a change of spark..."

It was a legitimate curiosity for him. He was far more used to studying physical sciences, and theoretical ones. Current social science was... not something necessary for the war effort, and he'd shoved it aside.

Smokescreen's demeanor earned the slight twitch of one optic.

"Perhaps for you."

"...You're going to make me start second guessing her, notdad," he murmured almost dejectedly, wanting to hang onto the hope that maybe Arcee was coming around for just a bit longer at least.

He ignored that doubting feeling though, for now, in favor of grinning and leaning over to bump his shoulder against the scientist a bit.

"Oh come on, sir! You should at least try it! This party's meant to be fun, right?"

"Am I?" Perceptor sounded genuinely surprised by that, his expression clouding in confusion. "That certainly wasn't my intent..."

And there was why the scientist was far more at home in the laboratory than in the social circles. The nudge at his shoulder barely twitches his frame, and he allows it.

"I'm perfectly all right with my cube and my data," he said, indignant. "I don't dance."

Smokescreen waved his hand, brushing off the comments about Arcee because he really didn't want to dwell on it anymore.

"Oh come on! Do you know how to dance? I can teach if you if you don't! Come on, notdad!" he mused, giving the other a happy puppy sort of look as he hopped up and tried to tug Perceptor off the couch. "Live a little!"

From the look on Perceptor's face, one would think Smokescreen was asking him to wade through a particularly disgusting lake of waste-water, rather than to get up and dance.

"Of course I know how, I've been sitting here all evening observing it."

He just really didn't want to. At all. The look on Smokescreen's face earns a grimace. "I'm likely more than twice your age, I think I've lived plenty."

... though he does allow himself to be tugged. For the moment.

"Yeah, but you're still functioning which needs you need to continue living!"

He's pleased that the other isn't stopping him from tugging nor protesting it in any way, despite his protesting of the dancing himself, Smokescreen's wings twitching happily as he bounces on his peds a bit.

"Come on! Just one dance and then you can go back to your observations of the social habits of the intoxicated, I promise!"

"Which I was doing..."

He might not be protesting any longer, but he's not exactly dancing either. As much as Smokescreen is bouncing, Perceptor is standing still, arms folded, and glowering. Even out on the dance floor.

Dammit, he's a scientist, not an entertainer.

"... A short one."

The younger bot's engine gives a happy rev when the other finally gives in and agrees to dance.

Short is better than nothing.

"Come on then!" he chirps happily as he gets around behind the other and starts trying to push him further out onto the dance floor, already starting to get into the music as he dances some while still trying to push.

The entire thing probably looks odd but Smokescreen doesn't care. He just wants his notdad to dance~

"Right..."

There is a wealth of resignation in his voice. He grumbles something unintelligible as he's pushed. If he dug his heels in, and really fought it, likely he could keep Smokescreen from shoving him too far. He could keep this from happening altogether.

He doesn't.

So he just stands there, idly waving his hands in some sad parody of a dance.

Smokescreen can't help but laugh a bit at the other's sad dance, said dance looking even worse than that human female that was shuffling about.

"Notdad come on! That's not how you dance!" he called over the music, grabbing the other's hands and attempting to get the other to start moving to the beat of the music.

"Stop thinking and just dance!"

"Primus..."

He hardly cared whether or not this was how one danced. Perceptor did not dance. It served no logical purpose. He did, however, make an attempt to keep the sentiment off his face, as Smokescreen hauled him around.

Very well.

He took a few steps, in rhythm. That much, at least, he was fully capable of identifying and following.

Internally, Smokscreen is cheering because slag yes he got Perceptor to actually dance! Even if it was a weak attempt..it was still dancing! And the other was at least following the music!

Externally, he just grins and continues dancing himself, doorwings giving happy little twitches here in there.

Perceptor is actually keeping track of time in his head. How much longer must he stay out here before he can return to his work?

Yes... he sees it makes Smokescreen happy. Very happy. And it's difficult to deny there is a part of him that feels a little lighter, upon noticing that.

He just won't say so.

Reluctantly, he comes to the decision to remain here, for as long as he's asked to. He won't like it, but he'd rather not go through all the drama again.

A formal dance.

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